Traveling Souls
by Skylarcat
Summary: Scully is dealing with her cancer, can a case hold her cure? And a Love Story mixed in.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Traveling Souls  
**Author**: A Skylarcat Piece. From Skylarcat Productions.  
**Classification:** MSR  
**Rating:** R Note: Reference to sex. Don't worry, nothing too graphic. Just a friendly warning.  
**Feedback:** Yes, please.  
**Summary:** There is a bit of angst in this fic, but it leads to a blissful absolution.  
**Keywords: **Cancer Fic, Case Fic, Love Story.  
**Note:** Scully and Mulder are characters that belong to Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions. Yes, I have used them without permission. However, no copyright infringement is intended. And I will return them intact and a lot more satisfied.

**Chapter One:**

March 19.  
Mulder's Apartment  
2:05a.m.

Even in the state of sleep, she was beautiful. Sprawled across his bed; her body contorted within his blankets, bare and peaceful. Her hair was fire and sprinkled across his pillow like angel wings, soft and gentle.

She was embedded within his mind, within his heart and he had to look away. Instead he brought his eyes to the precarious streets that rested just outside his apartment window. The winding asphalt glistened under the light of the moon: bound in slumber and vacant of trespassers. The ebony sky branched out before him vast with prospects of broken promises. The stars had long ago expired, snuffled out like a candle. All was dark now-- Dark like his soul.

The rain fell in a soft cadence upon the glass leaving the transparent remnants of liquid drops behind to cascade down each pane. How rueful the rain could be. He watched mesmerized by the tiny droplets and for a moment he longed to reach out and touch the coldness, to have the rain fall on his skin. It reminded him of a thousand teardrops, detached and dispirited.

Where did the traveling soul go? He pondered, silently to himself, as if the answer existed within the measurements of the rain. That was, after all, what her soul was doing; traveling slowly away from him. Like a retreating wave, slowly, effortlessly, fading away in the abyss of some unknown ocean. Its departure leaving the world lonely and in the mist of chaos. The sun no longer radiant, beating down upon his empty and insignificant life without direction. She, for all purposes, had become his reason. The world was too devastating to be faced alone.

She was uncommon. Like a diamond, cut to size, she mirrored perfection. Polished with grace and elegance; she was simply beautiful. And he couldn't imagine his life without her. She was as much as a constant as breathing. And without her he would simply cease to be.

He gripped the wooden window frame with both hands and leaned slightly in, allowing his head to bow between his arms. It was then that he felt the warm tears trickle down his cheeks and he watched them as they fell in a gravely manner to the floor. Where her soul would travel his would surely follow.

"Mulder."

He was startled by the sound of her voice and angrily wiped at the tears that stained his face. He didn't want her to see him crying. Once regaining some sort of composure he turned to face her. She was radiant in the moonlight. Her copper curls ablaze and falling loosely around the creamy base of her neck. Her eyes were turquoise under the light of the moon and they regarded him calmly. She was the only person who knew his soul thoroughly and no one would ever know him as completely as she did.

She lifted the butterscotch colored blanket in one swift motion baring her body and soul to him. "Come back to bed." His wrenched spirit found comfort within her solitude.

His knees grazed the matching sheets as he shifted his naked body near hers. His arm draped across her small waist drawing her against him. And she cast her head back in response; her lucid eyes searching his. He gently kissed her forehead. "I love you."

She smiled and lowered her head so it rested against his chest. "And I love you," she whispered. And he believed her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

_**I feel time like a heartbeat, the seconds pumping in my breast like a reckoning. The luminous mysteries that once seemed so distant and unreal, threatening clarity in the presence of a truth entertained not in youth, but only in its passage. I feel these words as if their meaning were weight being lifted from me, knowing that you will read them and share my burden, as I have come to trust no other. That you should know my heart, look into it, finding there the memory and experience that belong to you, that are you, is a comfort to me now as I feel the tethers loose and the prospects darken for the continuance of a journey that began not so long ago, and which began again with a faith shaken and strengthened by your convictions, if not for which I might never have been so strong now. As I cross to face you and look at you incomplete, hoping that you will forgive me for not making the rest of the journey with you. -Scully**_

Earlier...

February 9.  
Mulder's Apartment  
7:05p.m.

The light reflected off the wall like a prism; descending its bonds of color to the floor where it shimmered into pools of depth. The tiny crevices splintered and pulled as the expansion of wood came apparent in the confinements of such warmth.

She stood wearily, resting her tiny frame against the wooden door, thankful to have its support. She was quiet lost within the perplexities of life and their abiding consequences. Her hair looked softer then usual, he noted, falling loosely just above her shoulders. She watched him with pale blue eyes and he couldn't help but wonder when they had stopped being the rich color of the ocean. He determined that her one look could shatter worlds, crumble mountains; could break his heart.

He lingered only a few inches away from where she stood raking a shaky hand through his chestnut hair. She hadn't spoken a word, but regarded him with such silent sadness that he knew that it was only a matter of seconds before the impending doom forcibly made its presence known. "What's wrong, Scully?"

Was she going to retreat back into that place inside her where he had fought like hell to gain entry too?

She lowered her eyes apprehensively; sinking her bottom lip between her teeth she gnawed at it in consideration. "I have something to tell you, Mulder."

He had never seen her looking so frail, so delicate before and this scared him. She had always been the strong one; the foundation that supported him when he crumbled, his back broken from all the hardships that they had to endure.

He stood like a statue marbled out of remorse. His mind already conjuring the fears of what she was about to confess. He knew this moment eventually would come; it haunted him at night when he dreamed and now he was about to come face to face with it, and this terrified him. She would leave him; she had met someone new; she had discovered the importance of having a life. And she would leave him behind to travel on alone. There was nothing as tragic as a life in which didn't include her.

She allowed the pink tip of her tongue to slip out wetting her lips. And he could almost see the words start to form. Her brow narrowed slightly in consideration. "I have a small growth on the wall between my sinus and cerebrum." Her voice was even but sounded meek and small and for a moment he didn't recognize it as hers.

His eyes hazed over in confusion. "A growth," he repeated.

She sighed; straightening her body and with a waving hand she swept a few errant strands of red behind her ear. "A tumor," she summarized lowering her gaze away from him. "I have cancer, Mulder."

The world briefly stopped; resting on its axis and all he could do was fall into the dark abyss. He stumbled for a moment and reached for the wall with his hand. Sprawling his fingers across the wooden panel; he was glad to have his balance temporarily restored. He swallowed back the thick lump that had risen within his throat; resisting the urge to vomit right there upon his living room floor right in front of her. She was indestructible. Scully couldn't have cancer. "Is it operable," he managed.

She shook her head no and his stomach quickly knotted reinforcing the vile back up his throat. It burned as he refused its release. "But it's treatable," he inquired as his eyes closed in silent testament. He had already witnessed so much loss that he wasn't willing to allow her to pay the price of his transgressions. He needed her too damn much.

She stood masked in the shadows of the doorway, the burden weighing heavily upon her shoulders. "If it pushes into my brain statistically, there is about zero chance of survival." Her voice broke and she brought her eyes to his. "I'm dying, Mulder."

The air stole away from his lungs in one quick draw sending his legs buckling beneath him and causing him to collapse against the wall. His eyes lowered to dusty floorboards of his apartment and within the fissures of wood he witnessed a world in which they existed free of pain. Together—No cancer—No conspiracies—Just the two of them merged together by their souls. Traveling Souls.

He willed his eyes to where she stood. "I don't accept that. I won't."

A piece of her spirit appeared to dissolve right then before his eyes. Dropping and shattering upon the floor like unwanted glass; spilling her soul recklessly. "You have too." Her voice strained with emotion and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again; he saw the tears start to descend. "I need you, Mulder. I can't fight this alone."

He realized then that he would have to be the brave one; the strong one and he wasn't sure he was up to the challenge, but he would try like hell. He quickly crossed the threshold to where she stood and with shaky hands pulled her forcefully within his arms. To his surprise, she didn't resist; her small arms encircled his waist as her head came to slumber across his chest. Her damp tears forged their way through the fabric of his shirt as he held her tighter; making a silent vow that he would save her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

_**In med school I learned that cancer arrives in the body unannounced, a dark stranger who takes up residence, turning its new home against itself. This is the evil of cancer, that is starts as an invader, but soon becomes one with the invaded, forcing you to destroy it, but only at the risk of destroying yourself. It is science's demon possession. My treatment, science has attempted exorcism. Mulder I hope that in these terms you might know it and know me, and accept this stranger that so many recognize but cannot ever completely cast out. And if the darkness should have swallowed me as you read this, you must never think there was the possibility of some secret intervention, something you might have done. And though we've traveled far together, this last distance must necessarily be traveled alone. -Scully**_

February 11.  
FBI Hoover Building  
Basement Office.  
7:59a.m.

She had purged her soul to him; leaving nothing unrevealed. She confessed her fears, her concerns, and the aspects of her life, which remain still incomplete and he had listened without judgment, holding her close to his body. It was odd seeing their roles reversed. But he had risen to the challenge, never once wavered within the dark prospects that branched out before them.

Cancer. She shook her head sadly. Not a hero's death, she mused. There was nothing gallant in having her own body betray her. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to leave him behind to travel on without her. But she was dying, though it was easy for her to slip into denial regarding this; she knew it was only a matter of time till he would be force to continue on alone; guilt-ridden and blame solely placed upon himself. Her death would destroy him and that thought scared her more then dying itself.

But in her sleep cancer eluded her. Among dreams she was able to forget about the betrayal of her body, to forget about the cancer that consumed her, and threatened to destroy her beautiful mind. When she dreamed she found peace even though temporarily. Reality was always lurking in the forefront of nightmares.

Would he ever forgive her for leaving him behind?

He entered the basement office then, dressed in the familiar tailored suit and loud tie. He kicked the door shut with a prompt foot balancing the small cardboard box that he carried within his arms. His jacket was sprawled on top of it; forsaken sometime ago, she considered. "Good morning, Mulder."

"Good morn..." He stopped in mid-sentence causing her to quickly lift her gaze to where he stood; his attention solely placed on her.

"What?" She inquired.

He lifted a finger and gestured towards the patch of skin that rested beneath his nose just above his lip. Realizing what he was trying to convey, she reached her own hand up to the same spot on her face. Pulling her hand back, she shuddered at the sight of her own blood. Bright red.

"I'm fine Mulder." He didn't move nor did his eyes waver from hers. "Stop staring at me," she rebuked reaching for the tissues that rested on the corner of the desk and dabbed at the blood. "I'm fine," she reinstated.

He nodded slightly; hurt by her closure and discarded his jacket on the empty chair next to her. She watched him sulk over to the projector screen and pull it down in one hard snap then turned to face the projector.

He unloaded the projector clips from the box in a rush avoiding any eye contact from her. She shifted uncomfortably within the leather desk chair. The silence was beginning to take its toll on her, but she didn't know what to say to him. Sorry Mulder, but I have cancer. I'm dying right before your eyes and guess what? There's nothing neither you nor I can do about it. And by the way, I'm in love with you. I have been for sometime now, but since I am about to leave you alone on the earth; I decided to finally tell you. Yeah, that would go over smoothly. Damn-it! It wasn't fair.

He picked up a clip and proceeded to load the projector. She noted that his hands were shaking. "Mulder," she whispered.

Without warning he picked up the projector clips and dishearteningly threw them against the wall; sending a thousand fragments spilling onto the basement floor. She flinched involuntary; startled by his unforeseen outburst but she did not allow herself to speak.

He turned to face her, his butter-almond eyes ablaze and intrusive. "Tell me, how can you sit there with your faith still intact?" His words were sharp little daggers and pieced at her soul shredding the last strands of ice. It was a cruel fate bestowed upon them. He continued. "How can you believe in God, Scully? Only a merciless God would allow cancer to invade your beautiful body." He was on the verge of tears.

She swallowed. He thought her body was beautiful?

He was quiet now, awaiting her answer. She regarded him with wearily eyes. "Mulder, God has his reasons. It's not for us to question." She relocated the stapler to the other side of the desk; not focusing on the words she was about to say. "Maybe my time here is up."

He grabbed the stapler with abrupt force and sent it propelling across the office. "You're not going anywhere." He flattened his hands on the desk in front of her and leaned closer in. "I'm not allowing God to take you without a fight. Do you hear me, Scully? I'm going to fight for you!"

He crossed over to where she sat and lowered to his knees, broken and defeated, his eyes pleading. "Don't leave me all alone Scully."

How was she ever going to leave him behind?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

March 1.  
Carson City, Nevada  
Carson City Morgue  
8:35a.m.

She should have been relieved to have a case to preoccupy their minds, to advert their attention away from the cancer that grew inside her, but as she stared down at the naked body awaiting her autopsy; reality took that moment and slammed into her like a cement truck.

She stumbled backwards, but Mulder was quick and caught her by the shoulders. "Are you all right?"

She discarded the scalpel onto the instrument tray along with the latex gloves and headed towards the closest door. "I think I'm going to be sick." He didn't comment as she hurriedly left the room.

She almost didn't make it to the restroom in time. The bile had surfaced in her throat and threatened relinquishment and she was quick to drop to her knees; bowing before the toilet. In one thrust of her stomach muscles the yellow substance poured from her lips. She lifted a small hand and flushed the toilet. Then leaned against the wall grateful at the chill it provided. The tears came next endless in their pursuit. It wasn't long until she sat sobbing uncontrollably. Would he consider her weak now? That thought alone devastated her.

She had always admired his spontaneous nature, his adventurous spirit. The way his faith never fluttered and when he believed in something; he did it wholeheartedly. He believed in her; believed that he would be able to save her. He was so beautiful. But he had been false to believe that she would be his savor. To believe that she would always be here to pick up the broken pieces of his soul and glue them back together. God; how her heart broke.

Somewhere along the path of life she had become cold, numb, to the harsh realities that the world offered. Turning a blind eye to the vast cruelties, the numerous betrayals, the countless lies. She managed to focus on becoming hard, unbreakable. As an agent this was necessary and it had been easy for her shut-off, to bottle her emotions. She had become immune to love. She did not need it nor seek it. Her apparitions did not include it. Or least they hadn't until now. But where that had been denied for so long a need for approval grew—grew like the cancer insider her; always existing in the corner of her mind. She was amazed that a woman of her stature, highly confident in her abilities, could be so weak in that area. She believed in herself. She didn't believe in much, but she did have faith and after all her faith was one of her strongest attributes. She believed in God, though not overly religious. She couldn't remember the last time she had attended mass. But she believed in fate. She had too. Fate offered a reason, a purpose. And she needed a rational for her existence, an excuse for why things happened.

Why did she have to get cancer? Was it only in the wake of death that she dared allow herself to open and accept the fact that she loved him? And she did love him. God; how she loved him.

She lifted herself up off the floor and stumbled to the sink. Turning the water on cold; she cupped her hands beneath the water till they filled then splashed the liquid to her face. She caught a glimpse of her reflection and frowned. The rose that withers first is treasured last. Where the hell did that come from?

She took a deep breath and turned to leave the restroom. She stepped out into the hall and was surprised to find him waiting. He stood with his right shoulder pressed firmly against the wall; his hands held tightly within his pockets. His one leg was bent; the other was straight to aid in his balance. He glanced up at her with concern eyes. "I was worried," he shyly stated.

She offered a faint smile at the sentiment. "I knew that the chemotherapy could make me sick."

He nodded remotely then gestured down the hall towards the awaiting autopsy room. "You don't have to do this."

She held up a dismissive hand. "And what? Leave you to your own devices? I don't think so Mulder." She waited for his smile before adding, "I had a moment of weakness. I'm fine now." She allowed her eyes to meet his. "So if you will excuse me I have an autopsy to perform." To her surprise and much to her relief he stepped aside allowing her by.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

March 1.  
Carson City, Nevada  
Carson City Morgue  
9:30a.m

He couldn't help but wonder where she went when she retreated within herself. He imagined that it was the space between her heart and soul where she once had refused him entry. And now with each pull he could feel a piece of her returning back to that spot; the walls already reinserting themselves into place. And each time she extracted and closed a piece of her self off to him; he felt a part of his heart expire.

He had just assumed that she would always be here. Here to chide his wild theories; reproaching them with science. Here to ground him when things got chaotic and he needed rooting. Here to comfort him when he lost his way. Here by his side because he sure as hell wasn't capable of facing the world alone. And somewhere along their journey together he had fallen in love with her. And now his world was shattering from the prospects of losing her.

If her life should wither away right before his eyes like the shriveled petals of a rose, then he would silently join her; his soul no longer able to prosper without her. It destroyed him each time he witnessed a piece of her beautiful spirit dissolve and fade away. The massive growth, which grew inside her, worked steadily stealing her away piece by piece. He would be nothing without her.

He had been on the brisk of darkness, tiptoeing along the edge of sanity when she had entered his life. Somehow she had managed to latch onto him and pull him back from the ledge of ruins. She had saved him and now in return he was going to save her.

He watched her through the glass as she started to perform the autopsy. She donned the blue scrubs that he always thought matched her eyes. She appeared to not notice his intrusiveness; her back to him surely focused on her task. At least she was feeling better. That thought provided him with some comfort.

If only their lives could be different. If only he was merely a man and her merely a woman with no strings or complications attached. Perhaps then they could be free to love each other without pain or cancer or everything else that destroyed them in this life from day to day.

She took a step back deserting the autopsy tools on a lone tray. Then with remorse she pulled the white sheet over the body, her job obviously complete. She pulled off the latex gloves and discarded them into the red trashcan marked for hazardous items. Turning, she caught his attention.

He watched as she motioned with her hand to meet her on the other side. He quickly obliged crossing over the sterile white tiles to the next door. She was waiting for him; her body pressed against the open door. "I want to wash up then we can grab a bite to eat. I'm sure you want to hear the results of the autopsy."

He agreed and she turned to enter another small room. "I'll be out in a moment." She shut the door with a click and he found himself alone. He managed his way over to a nearby bench and sat awaiting her return. His stomach suddenly growled and he scolded himself for skipping breakfast. He wasn't sure how Scully could eat after performing an autopsy, but to his bewilderment she always conquered the feat.

The door opened with a soft click and she stepped out; her hair still done in a ponytail but she no longer wore the blue scrubs. "Are you ready to go?" He nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

March 1.  
Carson City, Nevada  
Southern Grill  
12:20p.m.

She reached forward, her small hand resting on the oak table as she lifted her body slightly, trying to get comfortable in the large booth. He watched her through amused eyes. His smug look didn't go unnoticed. Scully arched her bow, silencing him from any vainglorious remarks that surely rested on the tip of his tongue. Taking her fork; she stabbed her salad. "I don't think this is an X-File."

He glanced up upon hearing her revelation, forsaking his hamburger on the plate. "Why you say that?" He asked taking a swig of his coke.

She placed her fork down giving him her undivided attention. "Nothing in the autopsy suggests so. Though the blood analysis is still pending. I haven't got the results back from the lab." She paused and reached into the bag that rested at her feet; pulling out a large vanilla envelope. "I did, however, find something interesting when I preformed the autopsy."

She watched as his brow lifted curiously then lowered her eyes to the vanilla envelope. She shifted the papers around until she finally found the one she had been looking for. She pulled it out in one swift motion and handed it to him. He glanced over it then regarded her with confusion; not sure as to what he was looking at.

"She had a procedure performed on her brain. Most commonly referred to as a transorbital lobotomy." Scully explained.

He stopped reading and glanced up at her from behind the paper. "What the hell is that?"

She grinned; quite pleased that this case was directed more to her studies then his. "It's an extreme procedure used to treat mental illnesses, in which the connections between the prefrontal lobes and the rest of the brain are cut."

She took the paper that he held in his hands and lowered it to the table. Then with her fingers gestured to the front area of the brain. His faced contorted in disgust. "Who came up with that idea?"

"Well," she started leaning back into the booth. "In 1949, Dr. Egas Moniz was awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology and Medicine for the development of prefrontal lobotomy. He, um, based his discovery on a report that a chimpanzee named Becky, who frequently became upset when she made errors during the performance of a food-rewarded task, no longer did once she damaged both sides of her brain; the prefrontal lobes."

He gave her an incredulous look. "You think maybe I need this operation? You know I can get quite testy over food."

She sighed, not indulging him. "Following Moniz's clams that prefrontal surgery was therapeutically successful and had no significant side effects, there was a rapid proliferation of various forms of prefrontal psychosurgery. The transorbital lobotomy was developed in Italy and then popularized in the United States by Walter Freeman in the late 1940s. It involved inserting an ice-pick-like device under the eyelid then driving in through the orbit with a few taps of a mallet, and pushing it into the frontal lobes to sever the connections between the prefrontal lobes and the rest of the brain."

Mulder scrunched up his face then pushed his food out of the way, no longer hungry. "Sounds lovely."

She nodded her head in agreement; quite amused. Then rested her chin on her hand. "That's just it though. The procedure was abandoned in most countries when it was learned that prefrontal lobotomies are of little therapeutic benefit and that they produce a wide range of undesirable side effects, such as amorality, lack of foresight, emotional unresponsiveness, epilepsy, and urinary incontinence. This could, in hindsight, explain the death of our victim."

He appeared to consider this for a moment, his hand massaging over his jaw insightfully. Then he lifted his eyes catching her attention. "Haven't people heard of the benefits of spilling their problems on a sofa and indulging in happy pills? Sounds a lot more feasible then slicing and dicing the brain." He narrowed eyes for a second. "Hey, whatever happened to Dr. Moniz?"

She narrowed her eyes in thought. "From what I recall he was later shot by one of his patients. The bullet became lodged in his spine, rendering him paraplegic."

Mulder cleaned his throat in exasperation. "Talk about irony." He took another drink then added, "Let's talk to the family and see why she had such a procedure preformed. If this isn't an X-File I don't see why we should continue to waste our time."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

March 2.  
Carson City, Nevada  
7:03a.m.

The Rocky Mountains stood like pillars supporting the bruised sky; their snow-capped peaks speckling the heavens like wings; immense and pronounced. The region consisted of stark and arid land, which branched out before them in twists and turns. To the left he could see the desert valley, ancient and green with sage. Time had no passage here. The land remained the same everyday.

The highway they drove on was sparsely populated and he contemplated its reasoning to the morning hour. Scully shifted in the passenger seat veering her head towards the window; her cerulean eyes fixated by the vast terrain. "It sure is beautiful here."

He turned the steering wheel to the right riding the crest of the mountain. Through the windshield he saw the fiery sun perched itself in the cove of a hillside. The tiny gold strands illuminating across the hood of their vehicle. "Yeah it is," he agreed.

In the distance he could see the roof of the Nevada Police Station. Its snow-brushed arch projected through the horizon catching the light of the sun in its reflection. His foot gently pressed on the accelerator sending their vehicle in full-motion. She glanced up from beside him. "Are we in a hurry, Mulder?"

He cast her a smile then wiggled his brows. "Always." He took another sharp turn causing her to brush against the door of the Hummer. She glanced up at him indulgently then reached for the handle that rested just above her head. "I have got to get me one of these, Scully!" He declared gleefully as he maneuvered the overly large vehicle into a vacant parking space near the Police Station.

She climbed out and stretched her arms over her head releasing a slight yawn as he crossed over to where she stood. His tan hands pulled the wool sweater over his head in effort to avoid the chill in the air. Under her scrutiny he offered a shy grin "Next time Mulder, I get to pick the vehicle."

He chuckled softly as he placed his hand at the small of her back guiding her towards the station. "Come on Scully, where's your sense of adventure?" He asked reaching for the door handle. She didn't comment instead stepped passed him into the building.

The station glittered under the fluorescent lights like a cheap Christmas ornament. The sound of telephones humming and the chitchatting of officers filled the room as well as the smell of stale donuts and bad coffee. Every Police Station was the same.

"Agent Mulder, Agent Scully?" A tall gray-haired man inquired stepping from behind the desk. He lifted one large dark hand and brushed franticly at the donut crumbs that graced his uniform. He extended his other hand in greeting. "Officer West." After the causal handshakes he confirmed, "I have that address you requested."

He went back behind the desk again searching through the stacks of paper, his hand finally coming to rest upon a yellow post-it. "Ah, here it is." He handed the small piece of paper to Mulder. "Listen there's something you should know about Miss. Davidson. She can be a little, um, out there if you know what I mean."

Mulder released a small grunt from the back of his throat and extended a glanced at his petite partner. "What do you mean?"

Officer West leaned against the high counter folding his arms along the surface. "A few years ago she filed a missing person report on her daughter, Sara. She claimed that the girl had been abducted from their home in the middle of the night."

"Abducted," Scully piped from beside him hooking a few strands of hair behind her ear. She crossed her arms defiantly around her small frame. "By whom?"

"That's the million dollar question," Officer West stated as he walked towards a large filing cabinet that stood in the corner of the office. He pulled the second drawer opened and shifted through the numerous files stopping at the one he required. Turning towards the agents he handled them a large vanilla folder. "There was no sign of force entry. No broken locks or windows. Nothing in the house suggested foul play. After a few weeks of investigating it was determined that Sara most likely ran off with some guy"

He reached for the coffee mug that sat near the edge of the desk and took a sip, then gestured with his chin towards the folder, which Mulder held. "It's all in there. A few years later Sara returned with no memory of where she had been. The story pretty much ends there until two days ago when we discovered her body in woods. Maybe your have better luck with the case then us."

"Thanks," Mulder acknowledged. Perhaps they would have better luck.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight:**

March 2.  
Carson City, Nevada  
7:48a.m.

The large window in the foyer provided much of the light in the room. The peach colored curtains were lazily pushed to the side allowing the sun to creep in through the soft panes of glass. Its rays cast along the maple coffee table then spilled upon the floor; its light subsiding within the threads of the carpet.

Mulder sat slightly bent, his elbows resting on his knees. Scully was sitting to his right in a similar pose. Miss. Davidson was positioned across from them. The petite woman sat with one leg bent under her; the other draped along side the recliner. Her long blonde hair suspended down her shoulders in soft curls. She brought her fingers to her cherry lips and began to bite at her nails.

"Miss. Davidson," Scully stated smoothing her hand along her navy dress pants. "Were you aware that Sara had a transorbital lobotomy done?"

Miss. Davidson dropped her hand to her side and narrowed her eyes in consideration. "I'm afraid I don't know what that is."

"It was procedure commonly used to treat mental illnesses in the late 1940s. It involves cutting a section of the brain. Do you have any idea as to why Sara would have this done?" Scully asked as her sea-form eyes stole a glance in his direction.

Miss. Davidson shifted in the recliner raking a small hand through her tasseled hair. She shook her head. "I don't recall her ever having such a procedure, but it could have happened when she was abducted."

Mulder leaned forward slightly, his attention on full alert. "What do you remember about that night?"

Miss. Davidson inhaled sharply then contemplated her words. "I remember a light. Bright. Almost blinding. I knew Sara was asleep on the couch. She had fallen asleep during a movie. I could tell the light came from that direction. I got out of bed and headed towards the living room. She appeared to hover in midair. I tried to reach out for her, but there was this sudden force and it shot me back against the wall. When I woke up she was gone."

"But she came back," Mulder stated.

She nodded. "Last year. Just appeared at the door with no memory of the past few years. No recollection of what had happened to her. A few months ago she began to have nightmares about tests being performed on her. They got worst with each night till she finally just stopped sleeping altogether. I took her to the doctor. That's when we learned that she had cancer."

Scully appeared pale and stood abruptly. "May I, um, use your bathroom?"

"Sure." Miss. Davidson answered and pointed towards a door down the hall. Scully nodded her head in thanks and headed in that direction.

Mulder watched as her back disappeared from view and wondered if she was going to get sick again. The case was suddenly hitting a little too close to home. Was Scully's cancer linked to her abduction? One thing was certain; she wouldn't be leaving his sight anytime soon. "Miss. Davidson, could I see Sara's room?"

Miss. Davidson looked confused by his request then nodded. "Of course. This way."

Mulder followed her down a small hall. They came to rest at a large white door. Against the wood a small sign was attached, which read: Sara's room. Miss. Davidson pushed opened the door then glanced at Mulder. "I haven't been in here since that night. Everything is the way she left it."

Mulder gave a nod then entered. The bed was located in the middle of room against the center wall. Its pink comforter firmly tucked into place. Sara had kept her room neat. He walked over to the bedside table where several notebooks were sprawled. With on the pages she had scribbled the details of her nightmares: tales of flashing lights and probing of instruments unbeknownst to the medical world. He slammed his eye shut. Had Scully experienced the same kind torture? He prayed to God that she did not know such pain.

"Mulder, what are you doing?"

He opened his eyes and glanced over to the door to find his partner had returned. Her red hair fanned along her brow and she took a tentative hand and brushed the strands back into place. He didn't say anything. The image of his partner sprawled across some cold metal operating table, her wrists and ankles in restraints, the lights spilling across her naked body as the probing began still rendered in his mind. He shook the thoughts away.

Scully headed over to the dresser; her hand lifting a green book. She flipped through the pages then stopped; glancing at Miss. Davidson, who stood in the doorway. "Did you know that Sara had an appointment with a Dr. Keats on the day she died?"

Miss. Davidson glanced at Mulder then to Scully. "I don't know why Sara would want to see him. He doesn't practice medicine anymore. Unless it was regarding school. Dr. Keats teaches at the University."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine:**

March 2.  
Carson City, Nevada  
Motel  
10:50p.m.

Scully reclined in the small antique chair that sat adjacent to the stiff motel bed he was sprawled across. The small light from a nearby lamp danced along her skin. Under the scrutiny she appeared to glow. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn't asleep. He could tell that by how she was breathing. Most likely just in deep thought. He was sure that the case was taking its toll on her weak body.

The ramifications of the case and its connection to her own abducted surely haunted her mind just as it did his. The similarity was too much to bear. She sat forward abruptly, her eyes coming open in one quick snap. She was coughing uncontrollably. To his horror he realized that she couldn't catch her breath.

Her chest heaved as the small chokes escaped her throat. He ran to her. Pulling her hands away he noticed the blood which spilled across her creamy skin. Her oral eyes filled with fear and came to rest upon his. He pulled her into his arms; bracing her waist with one arm and with the other formed a tight fist then hit the spot between her shoulder blades in effort to reopen her lungs. It didn't appear to have worked. She was still struggling to breathe.

He guided her down to the floor placing a pillow behind her head and reached for his cell phone. He had just started to dial the emergency number when her body began to convulse. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, "Hang on Scully. Don't leave me."

Her hand cupped his tightly; her small fingers entwining within his. The light flickered as her body lifted one last time then stalled. She wasn't moving. Her life spilling away from her and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. "Scully!" He shouted demanding her to return to him. Her listless body did not stir. "Scully!" But it was too late for she was already gone.

"Mulder, I'm here! Open your eyes, damn-it!" He sprung forward crashing into another body. The darkness engulfing him as his eyes struggled to adjust. Warm fingers came to rest along his sweat drench brow; tentatively stroking circles within the flesh of his forehead. He reached up taking her hand into his. Her eyes narrowed in concern.

He stared up at her in disbelief. She was alive; sitting in front of him wearing the silk pajamas that he secretly loved. The light from the moon prowled across her tiny frame announcing her beautiful features. He reached out with a shaky hand and drew it along her chin. She was real. A sob rose within his throat and escaped in grunt. "You're really here."

"Yes. I'm right here." She reinforced wrapping her arms around his body. He released a few more sobs and went limp within her arms. She gently rocked him back and forth. "I heard you screaming my name." She ran a hand through his tasseled hair. "Was it a nightmare? Do you want to tell me about it?"

He inhaled her scent and closed his eyes fighting the images of her dying. "You died in my arms, Scully. I couldn't save you."

He could tell that she grew tense at his confession. "I'm so sorry, Mulder," she spoke into his hair and lowered her lips to kiss his head. "It's not supposed to be like this."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten:**

March 3.  
Carson City, Nevada  
University  
8:10a.m.

She veered the car in the University parking lot relieved that they had exchanged their once overly large vehicle for a trusty Taurus. She was more comfortable driving it. At the Dealership she had grabbed the keys and informed Mulder that she would drive. He hadn't received much sleep the night before due to his nightmare. In an attempt to comfort him she had crawled in bed beside him and pulled him close to her. An hour later he finally succumbed to sleep; his head draped across her chest. However, during the night he would frequently awake and check her vitals making sure she was indeed alive.

She threw the car into park and fall back against the leather seat, her eyes scoping the surrounding area. There were several large maple trees that cornered the University. Their immense branches reaching heaven-bound; other then the few buds that thieved on the tiny twigs its soul was bare. She stole a glance at her sleeping partner. He appeared to be at peace.

She could still hear the distress in his voice as he screamed out her name. The way his body shook in turmoil as she pulled him out of the nightmare. Her cancer was already destroying him and she hadn't even died yet. How was he going to continue on when she passed? Even now the blame was clearly written across his face. How would she convey that this wasn't his fault? Once their connection was severed there would be no one left to save Fox Mulder other then himself. And knowing him as completely as she did; she knew he would never be able forgive himself for not saving her.

It was apparent that he cared deeply about her. Hell, she loved him with her whole heart. Even in the beginning of their partnership they shared an undeniable connection. Some spark of chemistry had been ignited several years ago when she entered that basement office for the first time. So naive and innocent; she hadn't a clue on the tribulations that awaited them. They established their trust in one another right away; during their first case in fact. He had sprawled himself on the motel floor and she had presumed a place in his bed. That is when he had told her about his sister. At the time she didn't believe the story, but she did believe in him and that had been enough. And now after traveling so far together they would be separated. Even the Bureau couldn't achieve that, though they had tried. They had still sought each other out. Through chaste phone calls or informal emails they communicated; even resolving to the occasional secret meeting. They were partners no matter what. And even with her death he would vow to never have another partner. He would never replace her.

"Mulder." She reached a hand out and brushed a few strands of mahogany away from his forehead. He stirred slightly. "We're here," she whispered as she watched his eyes slowly come open.

He sat up and rubbed his hands sparsely along his eyes rendering the sleep away. "The University?" He asked and she nodded.

They located Dr. Keats a short time later in a vacant classroom. He was a tall man with sandy hair and glasses that perched low on his nose. At the sound of the Agents entering the classroom he quickly glanced up. "Can I help you, folks?"

"I sure hope so," Scully regarded as she reach into her coat pocket and retrieved her badge. "Mulder and Scully from the FBI. We like to ask you a few questions."

The man took a moment to look over her identification; once satisfied he proceeded to pack up his belongings. Shoving a few books into his briefcase he asked, "What is this regarding?"

"The death of Sara Davidson." Mulder spoke from beside her.

Dr. Keats took a deep breath and sat his briefcase down upon the desk before taking a seat in the leather chair. "What is it you want to know?"

"I understand you're a doctor," Scully said. "What is your area of expertise?"

He was quiet for a moment regarding Scully with small brown eyes. "The brain." He answered flatly.

"That's interesting." Mulder spoke as he walked to the corner of the room. "Sara had an operation performed on her brain. You wouldn't know anything about that now would you?"

Dr. Keats sat back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. "Now Agent Mulder why would I?"

"Well," Scully conjured. "We know that Sara had an appointment to see you on the day she died. Care to enlighten us?"

Dr. Keats' face expression dropped at the sound of her revelation. He rubbed a shaky hand through his untamed hair. "Listen, I didn't kill her."

"So you don't deny seeing her?" Mulder asked.

"No. I saw her. And I performed that operation on her. It was only in effort to remove her tumor. She was fine when she left." Dr. Keats stated.

"The side-effects on such an operation don't always present themselves right away. It could take hours or even days later to manifest." Scully informed. "If it is learned that your operation killed Sara, you will be held accountable."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven:**

March 3.  
Carson City, Nevada  
Motel  
9:00 p.m.

Mulder reached for the pillow and adjusted it behind his head in an effort to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress, which constituted as his bed. It didn't work. In earnest he threw the pillow aside and quickly stood. Deciding that the small wooden chair by the window would do him justice, he headed in its direction and took a firm seat. Scully, who was talking on her cell phone, arched a brow as he passed. Giving her a weak smile he reached for the outdated magazine that rested on the table and flipped through the flimsy pages. Every once in awhile he would glance in Scully's direction in hopes that she would hurry up and finish her conversation then update him on the case. Maybe if he were persistent she would get the hint and get off the phone.

It worked.

With a snap she closed her cell and discarded it onto the bed. Placing her hands back onto the mattress she wiggled herself up so she sat on the end of the bed with her legs dangling off the side. Damn she really was short; he thought but didn't voice this, knowing Scully wouldn't think twice about pulling out her gun and shooting him. She gave him an indulgent look but remained silent allowing the suspense to kill him. Finally unable to take anymore, he shrugged his shoulders. "So what's going on?"

She brushed a few loosen strands of hair back into place and took a breath. "The labs are back." She spoke modestly. "It was determined that Sara died from cerebral hemorrhage; bleeding in the brain. It occurs when a cerebral blood vessel ruptures and blood seeps into the surrounding neural tissue and damages it. Due to the lack of oxygen in the brain she suffered a stroke. The operation on her brain killed her, Mulder."

He sighed and leaned back into his chair closing his eyes. "So the procedure that Dr. Keats preformed to absolve her cancer only resulted in her death?"

Scully shook her head in slight confusion. "That's just it. The labs show that Sara didn't have cancer. The procedure actually cured her."

His eyes narrowed for a moment. Something wasn't quite adding up. "Perhaps Sara never had cancer to begin with." Mulder stated as he leaned forward resting his elbows on his legs; a new theory was already taking formation.

She was silent only for a moment then promptly debunked his speculation. "I'm a doctor, Mulder. I saw Sara's medical records. She had a tumor in the brain much like mine."

He stood passively rubbing a loose hand over the muscles of his neck then walked over to the window. The sky was quite dark; only a few stars burnished the heavens. He wondered, only briefly, if stardust could expire. If it could fade away; its light only a distant reminder of all that it had been; all that it could have been. And then he thought of Scully. He thought of the cancer, which was invading her body, causing her to fade away, to expire. Her once light that filled him so often in life; now the only reminder of all that she had been—all that she could have been. He spoke softly, "Scully, if this true then Dr. Keats did cure Sara's cancer. She died from hemorrhaging of the brain, not a tumor. He was telling the truth. He was trying to save her."

Scully moved closer behind him. He could feel her presence, but did not turn to watch her. Instead he continued to stare out the window. She spoke to his back. "His intentions might have been well founded but he still played a role in her death." Her small fingers reached up and brushed along his shoulders causing him to shiver in the process. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I, ah, talked to the local police and Dr. Keats will be facing murder charges. He doesn't practice medicine anymore. He had no right to operate on her."

Mulder turned glancing over his right shoulder at her. "So our work here is done?"

Her eyes lowered to the floor; fixated by some invisible thread within the carpet. "I've already booked us a flight back to D.C. We leave tomorrow morning."

He turned back to the window crossing his arms against the panes of glass and rested his forehead along the flesh of his arms. "I was so certain, Scully." He acknowledged. "So damn certain that a cure for your cancer existed somewhere within this case."

"Wh—what?" She asked, surprised. Her hand gently squeezed his shoulder as she spoke. "Mulder, there is no cure for my cancer. And it certainly doesn't exist in the pages of some X-File. You have searched enough. What's happening to me, Mulder, it's not your fault."

He spun around taking hold of her shoulders with such a force that she moaned in surprise and quickly took a step back. Noting her response, he instantly loosened his grip, but did not let go. "It is my fault, Scully. Don't you see? It's because of me that this is happening to you."

She reached up cupping his jaw; her small fingers touching the stubble that resided there. He closed his eyes and instinctively leaned closer into her touch. "No, Mulder," she reinsured. "It's not your fault. Never your fault." Her lips brushed against his forehead then lowered subtly to rest upon his nose. Her hands braced his face as she parted to look up at him briefly. Then to his surprise her lips brushed against his. Soft at first, but when he complied parting his lips slightly; the kiss became more hungry and desperate. She brought her hands up locking them around his neck and he placed his around her small waist lifting her up off the ground.

He rotated their stance, turning slightly so her back could rest against the wall. In this position he was able to lift her leg; wrapping the limb around his hip. The slight arousal from the movement caused her to tilt her head up; leaving her neck vulnerable to his kisses. His lips assaulted the creamy flesh of her skin; leaving no area untouched. She tasted like sugar: sweet and addicting. And if she consumed him now it still wouldn't be enough.

He tilted his head slightly in effort to place kisses along her chin when the case folder on the table caught his attention. Cancer. She was dying from it. He shouldn't be doing this. He pulled back pushing her away. She moaned from the lost of contact. He rubbed his hand over his swollen lips. "What are we doing, Scully?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve:**

March 3.  
Carson City, Nevada  
Motel  
9:45p.m.

Her mouth came slightly ajar as she made a sound that resembled a grunt. "What do you mean, what are we doing?" She asked. He could pick up on the irritation in her voice, which appeared to soften as she answered her own question. "We're living."

"Are we?" He asked. He was certain that he loved her. That was the only thing that was constant; that was true. She was the only thing right in his life. She was his world now. And God knows he had dreamt about this moment since the first day she had entered his life, but now with her cancer at foresight it all came bittersweet.

The tears were present in her eyes but she refused to cry. It was so like her to refuse a moment of vulnerability. She was being strong for him. "Mulder, I know you don't want to lose me and believe me; I don't want to leave you behind. But Mulder, it's okay to feel this. I need to feel this. I need to feel alive."

He almost wept at her confession. She was so much more then this. Pulling at the hem of her sweater, he watched as she took a step forward lifting the wool fabric up over her abdomen then her head. He inhaled a sharp breath as he realized that she wasn't wearing a bra. Modestly, she discarded the item of clothing to the floor and allowed his scrutiny. His eyes traveled to the curve of her breasts. Though not overly large they were firm and full; simply beautiful. Her abdomen muscles twitched from under his gaze and he quickly brought his attention to her eyes. "You're beautiful, Scully."

Taking a small step closer she reached for his hand. Cupping the instrument within her fingers she brought it to her lips planting a gentle kiss among his knuckles. Flattening his hand, she placed it close against her chest. It was here that he could feel her heart beating. In a matter of moments, the beating of his own heart fell in rhythm with hers; and now beat as one. Slowly, she lowered his hand so it came to leisure upon her breast. "Make me feel alive, Mulder."

His thumb flickered, gradually in a circular motion causing her nipple to become erect. She groaned in response. Pulling her close to him; his lips found hers once again. This time his teeth gnawed at her bottom lip, sucking and lapping at the pink instrument for all that it was worth. In the process of tonsil hockey, she had managed to lift his shirt up and now parted slightly to remove the unwanted item. It joined her sweater on the floor. She quickly moved back in to kiss him. Their hands were quick to remove the other undesired clothing that hindered them. Finally it was skin upon skin.

Once on the mattress, she straddled him. Bringing her head down she kissed him as his hands started to explore the newfound areas of her body. She felt like silk. She kissed his jaw then his neck. Moving further down his body, she planted a row of kisses along his chest. She leaned forward on her knees, hovering just above him. Bracing her hands against his chest she impaled herself onto him. They both released a shaky breath as the feeling of fulfillment consumed them. It had been too long. Her hips buckled slightly. Gripping her waist, he encouraged her. Slowly she began to rock back and forth. Each thrust gentle but deep. A pacific rhythm was soon established. She moved like the tides of the ocean; with each thrust she crashed upon his shore. She titled her head back sending flames of red cascading down her neck and shoulders. Opening her eyes she smiled down at him. He pulled her close and kissed her.

He tangled a few strands of red within his fingers then lifted his hand running it through the soft, fiery locks. Releasing the entanglements he dismissed a gasp of horror. She noticed his expression. "What?" She turned in the direction he was looking. Realizing what he was holding; she brought his hand in front of her. "Oh my god, Mulder!" She cried already climbing off him. He went to reach for her but she quickly evaded his grip. "I'm so sorry." She announced as she slammed the bathroom door.

He sat up quickly and examined the red strands that glisten against the cream of his palm. Damn-it! She was losing her hair. He discarded the fallen hair into the trashcan and approached the bathroom door. He knocked softly but she did not reply. He tried the handle but found it was locked. Pressing his hands against the door he begged. "Please Scully, don't shut me out. Not now. Not ever. I love you, Dana. Do you hear me?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen:**

March 8.  
Basement Office  
8:40a.m.

He sharpened a yellow number 2 pencil and leaned back in his chair. He examined the carefully sharpened instrument; calculating the speed times distance needed to secure the pencil a place among its comrades. Flicking his wrist back slightly, he sent the pencil propelling within the air. It met the ceiling with a thud and stayed put. He was quite pleased. Scully would have been amused.

Automatically, his gaze fell upon her vacant chair. It just wasn't the same without her. She had a doctor's appointment. He had requested to go with her, but she dismissed him; stating it would be ridiculous for both of them to come into work late. So now he sat unable to focus on work. His mind kept returning to her.

After confessing his love, she had unlocked the bathroom door. Visibly shaken by the turn of events; her eyes were swollen and red. But that night she finally allowed him in. Their relationship had evolved and he was damned if he was going to allow a tumor to take away everything he held so dear to him.

A tumor, or neoplasm, is a mass of cells that grow independently of the rest of the body. His mind taunted. He had done his research and now was an expert on cancer. Almost 20 of tumors found in the human brain were meningioumas tumors. This meaning that they grew between the meninges, the three membranes that cover the central nervous system. Since meningiomas are encapsulated tumors they grew within their own membrane. As a result, they are particularly easy to identify on a CT scan. If a person had to develop a tumor, then hopefully they were lucky enough to get a benign tumor. Benign tumors are surgically removable with little risk of further growth in the body. Or like in Scully's case, they can develop a malignant tumor, which is difficult to remove or destroy completely, and any cancerous tissue that remains after surgery continues to grow. The chances of Scully being cured were next to none. But yet he refused to give up hope. And so did she.

He was about to call her cell when the sound of her heels stopped him. "Hey." It was all he could manage to say as she walked into the basement office. She didn't acknowledge him. Remotely, she took a seat. He noticed that she held two large envelopes. "I, ah, just got done speaking with Assistant Director Skinner." She finally spoke. "And he's, umm, taking me out of the field. I'm assigned to desk duty." She almost forced a laugh.

It took only a minute to realize that she hadn't received the news of a miracle from the doctor. He didn't know if he should pray to God, or to curse him. "I, ah, have something to show you." She continued. "I wasn't sure if I should show you this or not, but considering the recent development in our relationship; I knew I couldn't hide this from you."

She handed both envelopes to him. He held them briefly, not sure if he wanted to see what they contained. He felt like he was opening Pandora's Box. Finally, he summed up enough courage and opened each envelope; pulling out the images it held. He determined that he was looking at X-rays of her brain. But he wasn't exactly sure what it all meant.

She pointed to the image he held in his right hand. "It's a contrast X-ray." He didn't reply. "A technique used where a substance is injected into one compartment of the body. It absorbs X-rays either less then or more than the surrounding tissue. The injected substance then heightens the contrast between the compartment and the surrounding tissue during X-ray photography. The technique they used on me, Mulder, was called a cerebral angiography. Here it uses the infusion of radio-translucent dye into a cerebral artery to visualize the cerebral circulatory system during X-ray photography. It's what indicated the location of my tumor."

He waved the other image in his hand and she quickly commented. "It's a structural MRI. It also shows my tumor. The ventricles are outlined in yellow and the tumor is outlined in red."

"So what am I looking at Scully? In layman's terms."

"Mulder, check the dates. I got the first one done several months ago and the second one I got done today." She stood and walked over to where he sat examining the X-rays of her brain. Pointing to an area on one of the images she spoke, "Note the size of my tumor here. It's around the size of a golf ball." She then pointed towards the same area on the other X-ray. "As you can see it has expanded to the size of a grapefruit. Mulder, I have been informed that I have two months to live."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen:**

Present Time...

March 19.  
Mulder's Apartment  
2:05a.m.

He stared outside his apartment window. The world was silent and draped in slumber; dark and vacant much like his soul. The winding asphalt glistened under the light of the moon. The streaks of silver adorned each crevice, glowing and melancholy. It was late and he should be sleeping. But sleep came with a price and with it the lost of valuable time. The cure for her cancer existed somewhere out there just beyond his reach. He was too reckless to sleep now or ever again for that matter, but she slept peacefully within his bed. And for that he was glad.

Her life, like a candle, was slowly expiring right before him. One by one the petals of her existence gradually began to fade away. Each second it withered a little more and with the passing of the days the petals were cast upon the ground; the memories of all the years shared. And he collected every single one of them, storing them away within his mind and heart. Nothing loved is ever truly forgotten and he did love her. There was no doubting that.

The stars were alive within the vast sky, shining brightly and with each twinkle they laughed down at him, taunting him. Under their scrutiny he was labeled as a failure. She would die for his cause if needed and he wasn't willing for her to pay that price.

The sky broke casting its tears down against the glass in a soft cadence. In the distance sparks of lightening shattered, the black clouds illuminating the world ever briefly. He joined the heavens and wept a thousand tears for her. She was his everything.

Guilty men knew no redemption. And he was ridiculed with guilt and blame; his prayers fell upon deaf ears. He was a lost cause. It was too late for him, but surely God wouldn't forsake Scully. Not when she needed him so desperately.

Where was it that traveling souls wandered? Somewhere along the bridge of heaven and earth, where life and death merged; he imagined souls waited there for vindication. But where her soul retreated; his followed; determined to join her in afterlife if needed.

She was so very special. Unlike anyone he had ever known. He loved her completely. He loved her with all of his being. And his life without her would be pointless and lack direction. She was as much as a constant as breathing and without her he would simply cease to be.

He bowed his head against the wooden window frame allowing the cold texture to graze his flesh. Outside the rain continued to fall. And so did his tears. Where her soul would travel his would surely follow.

"Mulder."

She had awakened. Startled by the sound of her voice, he angrily wiped at the shallow tears cursing their presence. She was radiant within the moonlight. Her copper curls ablaze and falling loosely around the creamy base of her neck. Her turquoise eyes were sharp and calm casting him within their shadows. It was there that he found home.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he spoke.

She lifted the butterscotch colored blanket in one swift motion baring her body and soul to him. "Come back to bed," she replied. His wrenched spirit found comfort within her solitude.

Curling his naked body against hers; he swore he could hear the beating of her heart. He drew her closer within his arms. She cast her head back sending strands of hair along his chest and watched him with lucid eyes. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "I love you."

She smiled. "And I love you."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen:**

March 20.  
St. John's Church  
8:05a.m.

After lighting two candles he took a step back and eyed the flickering flames. Their shadows had cast light upon the wall and his gaze had become fixated by the movement. He wasn't sure as to why he had come to the church in the first place. Only that its location a few blocks from Scully's apartment made it a convenience to the wandering souls and he had somehow ended up on its doorstep.

He wasn't a religious person. After the abduction of his sister, his faith in God staled. As the years collected unanswered prayers of her safe return, he surrendered all hope. Giving up on God and all he stood for. Faith was no longer worth believing in. His soul already condemned. But she had saved him and her faith alone was enough to renew his.

He had come seeking hope. He had once witnessed her lighting candles in silent prayer and felt incline to do the same. The wax had started to melt causing the flames to flicker more forcefully. "Allow her to live, God," he implored.

"I haven't seen you here before."

Mulder shifted uncomfortable within the Father's presence but offered a slight nod. Shoving his hands in his pockets he almost retreated to the door.

"Father McDaniel," the older man acknowledged and extended his hand out to Mulder.

He accepted the gesture taking the Father's hand within his. "Fox Mulder. But please call me Mulder."

This caused Father McDaniel's brow to lift in puzzlement, but he did not speak, allowing Mulder to render anymore information regarding that subject.

"I haven't been to church for awhile," he confessed. He gestured towards the candles. "I don't know if I'm doing this right."

Father McDaniel was quiet for a moment. His face glowed within the light of the candles. "There is no wrong way to seek out God."

"My partner, she's dying." Mulder announced out of nowhere. "I need a miracle."

"Miracles are often rare, Mr. Mulder, but they do occur. You have to believe and never give up on hope."

Mulder looked down. "But I'm to blame."

Father McDaniel's hand came to rest on his shoulder. "I don't believe that." A moment passed and then he added, "Would you like to pray?"

Mulder looked up. This was it. One last chance at hope. "Yes," he answered.

Both men took a seat within an empty pew. Mulder bowed his head in silent reverie. "God," he spoke forgetting all about the church and Father McDaniel. "I have failed in so many ways. I have failed as a son, as a brother, as a partner. I have failed as a man. And for my transgressions I will take whatever punishment you wish to bestow. But don't take her. Not yet and not like this. She doesn't deserve this. She still has so many dreams to live, so many things to still experience. Take my life instead. Allow me to die for her. Please God, allow her to live."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen:**

_**I have not written to you in the last 24 hours because the treatment has weakened my spirit as well as my body. Mulder, it's difficult to describe to you the fear of facing an enemy, which I can neither conquer nor escape. Penny Northern has taken a downturn. I now look at her with a respect that can only come from one who is about to walk the same dark path. Seeing her I can't help but see myself in a month or a year. I pray that I have her courage to face this journey. Mulder, I feel you close though I know you are now pursuing your own path. For that I am grateful, more than I could ever express. I need to know you're out there if I am ever to see through this.-Scully.**_

March 20.  
Hospital  
8:05a.m

"Just relax, Dana." The nurse insured her. She gave a faint smile. Easier said then done she thought. But even so she closed her eyes and took a breath. Anywhere but here.

For a moment she was no longer in the starch hospital room, but instead in a beautiful backyard complete with a white picket fence. Mulder was pushing a little redheaded girl with hazel eyes in a swing. Their offspring surely. She smiled and looked down noticing her expanding belly. She was pregnant. This was the life she always wanted. And then she was cold.

She opened her eyes and discovered she was back in the hospital room. She repositioned herself slightly on the cold metal table. Another time, another place.

Within moments the table shifted slightly and she was engulfed in darkness. She counted to herself, relaxing her breathing. She knew the procedure. Been through it a thousand times now. The light came sudden and she closed her eyes remembering another time, another place, another light. Back then her feet and wrist had been bound against the cold metal. The piecing light that resulted left the intruders faceless as they went probing and experimenting on her. Then the light was gone. The probing finished. And she had been returned. And now with the development of her cancer the probing was starting all over again. Though a different kind of probing, it was still invasive just the same.

"All finished, Dana." She sat up. "Why don't you get dress? The doctor will be back to talk to you shortly." She nodded. Her clothes rested on a nearby chair, but she sat still eyeing the items. If the cancer had pushed any further within her brain, she would only have days to live, maybe only hours. That wasn't enough time.

And she needed time. Time to say goodbye to Mulder. She had to make sure that once she departed from this world that he would be okay. That he knew that this wasn't his fault. She stood from the table and quickly got dressed.

By the time the doctor entered the room, she sat stiffly within the chair staring outside the window. Her only response to his presence was a quick glance and then her gaze returned back to the outside world. From the window the skies appeared blue and sunny. She could even hear the birds singing. Today the world was peaceful. But it was just a disguise. She knew, too well, of its darker nature.

She tilted her head slightly, observing the doctor as he put up the latest X-ray images. She lowered her eyes. Not sure if she wanted to know the truth that they held. The results, the prospects, all too dark now and she struggled to breathe. She should have allowed Mulder to come. She needed him now.

"I don't believe this." The doctor stated stepping back; eyes wide. She glanced up; not sure as to what held his fascination. "I have never seen anything like this in all my years in the medical field." She was now curious.

"What?" She finally asked. "What is it?"

He looked at her and shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. You have to see this for yourself."

She didn't move. Her brow lifted slightly. She wasn't sure if she should be fearful or if this was something she wanted to see, needed to see. Slowly she stood. With shaking legs she approached the X-ray. He was right. She didn't believe her eyes. "The tumor, it's gone."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen:**

March 20.  
Scully's Apartment.  
11:00a.m

His long body slumbered along the length of her couch. His arms were folded neatly behind his head. The sun struggled against the russet blinds in effort to break through, but he was glad for the darkness. It helped calm his mind. She should be arriving home soon. _**Please God, give me a miracle.**_

The rain the night before had disappeared. The sun had taken its place among the clouds, illuminating the world in perfect brilliance; he had noted as he pulled the blinds shut. If it wasn't for the fact that his world was shattering; he might have appreciated the gesture. But as it was, Scully was dying. And in that sense so was he.

The anxiety was once again making its presence known, and his stomach knotted. Bringing his thumb to his lips, he bit and tore at a hangnail. If she didn't arrive home soon he wouldn't have any nails left. Not that it mattered. If anything happened to her, if she died, then he would have nothing left. Nothing that mattered anyway.

Outside the faint echo of her heels was present and he caught himself sitting up straight. There was a jingle of keys as she let herself in; her face was expressionless. Suddenly he cursed the darkness; it rendered his ability to read her face, to know what she was thinking.

Both stood silent and he counted the seconds as they passed. His only apparent thought; she was beautiful. Simply beautiful. He was about to voice this, but she picked that moment to give him a smile, and he found that all words were lost somewhere in the sea-blue of her eyes.

"Mulder," she offered. "I have something to tell you."

He placed a finger to her lips and silenced her. "Just wait." She didn't reply, watching him with lucid eyes. "I want to remember you; just as you are this very moment." He lowered and covered her lips fully with his. Then pulled back and drew her within his arms. He buried his face into her hair and bathed in the strawberry scent it offered. "I went to church," he revealed.

She tensed in his arms and tilted her head back to stare at him. He noticed a brow shoot up. "But Mulder, you don't believe in God."

His fingers toyed with the locks of her hair, and he bowed his head slightly to look at her. "It wasn't that I didn't believe, Scully. I had just witness too much false hope and I didn't know what to believe in anymore. So I just gave up. Took on all the responsible myself and with that burden came self-blame. But in that church today, I found something. I found hope. Hope to keep searching. I will save you, Scully. I refuse to lose you. So I prayed. Prayed for you and your health. Prayed for us. Prayed that we would have the strength to continue."

"Miracles happen everyday, Mulder." She reached out touching his face and he found himself leaning into her touch. His soul craved her. He was only complete when she was by his side. "Mulder, a miracle happened." She had his attention. "Medical science is unable to explain, to offer any reason of clarity, as to what occurred inside my body. But I would like to believe that your faith...your faith in me is partly responsible. Mulder, the cancer, it's gone."

He almost laughed. "What are you saying, Scully? How is that possible?"

She smiled. "This from a man that once informed me that anything was possible." She paused and he watched her with great interest. Was she always this beautiful? "Your prayers were answered, Mulder. Our prayers," she added.

He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes in silent thanks. He drew his lips near her ear. "I love you so much, Dana," he whispered.

"And I love you," she spoke. "For eternity and beyond."

So that's where traveling souls wandered. To eternity and beyond.

**_The End!!_**


End file.
